


The Inexact Science of Time Travel

by draculard



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Humor, M/M, Sibling Incest, Time Travel AU, Wacky Asgardian Aging Process, tony in asgard, young loki, young thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 13:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18283619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: In a last-ditch effort to gain powerful allies and prevent the Snappening, Dr. Strange sends Tony Stark back in time to prevent Thor from killing Hela.He sends Tony a little too far back.





	The Inexact Science of Time Travel

Time travel can’t fix everything.

It’s an inexact science, especially with Stephen at the helm. When the nebulous golden strands of light stop spinning around Tony’s head, he finds himself somewhere he’s never been before -- a shimmering palace, with an outlandish landscape visible through the windows. He’s toured the entire world, and he’s never seen a place like this. He wanders the empty hall, eventually stopping by one of the enormous, floor-to-ceiling windows, where he leans against the room and peers outside.

Is that a…

Is that a _rainbow bridge_ in the distance?

Thor really, literally meant he traveled via _rainbow bridge?_ That wasn’t a metaphor?

Jesus Christ. Tony pinches the bridge of his nose and absently waves away the few remaining strands of Stephen’s magic. So, he knows he’s in Asgard, at least. He pushes away from the wall, determined to find either Thor or that rat-bastard brother of his.

He finds them fast. It would be hard not to -- he knows the hypermasculine smell that Thor exudes when he’s training. Sweat and leather, or whatever Asgardian animal hide passes for leather, and a spicy smell which Tony assumes is the Norse god equivalent of Axe body spray.

It’s not a pleasant smell, but every time Tony encounters it, he can feel his body responds. Which is just proof that he has low standards.

Grumbling, he follows the scent down an archaic passageway that reminds him strongly of a few cathedrals he saw in Italy. Of course Thor grew up in a place like this. If there were beer taps built into the walls, it would explain just about everything about him.

The scent leads him to an enormous oak door -- although Tony supposes it must not be oak. Some sort of space-tree.

God, he hopes it isn’t made of Groot.

He hesitates outside the door, whatever it is, listening with increasing anxiety to the sounds from within. This must be Thor’s sparring room; he can hear grunts and panting breath inside. There’s the sound of flesh against flesh -- punching and kicking, he imagines.

And then quickly realizes he’s wrong when he hears a familiar tenor moaning Thor’s name.

“Oh, Christ,” Tony says aloud. He registers the sudden stillness inside a moment before he pushes open the door. Two familiar-looking young men lay tangled together on a god-sized bed, their eyes wide.

They don’t recognize Tony, but they’re too stunned to react. Unfortunately, he recognizes them. The young, muscular blond bears a remarkable resemblance to Thor, but his hair is a shade lighter, and instead of a beard he has the most disgusting, thin little mustache Tony has ever seen. The dark-haired creature riding him appears to be neither male nor female, but the face is familiar, too, with pale blue eyes (ugh) and dark hair pushed back on his head (double ugh).

Loki and Thor, undeniably.

Both naked.

Both around the age of fifteen.

Tony’s gone way too far back in time.

“Christ,” says Tony again, thumping a closed fist against his thigh. “I should’ve fucking known.”

Thor blinks at him owlishly, looking mildly offended. Loki’s expression has melted into a look of teenage peevishness that really isn’t much different from how he looks at an adult.

“Who the hell are you?” he asks.

Oh, God. His voice breaks in the middle of the sentence. This is like Tony’s worst nightmare.

Or maybe like his best pipe dream -- no, scratch that. Pretend he never thought that.

Thor and Loki are still waiting for an answer.

“Look,” says Tony. He realizes he’s sweating a little. Is it hot in here or is he just nervous? His eyes are fixed on Loki’s skin, shining wet from exertion. Suddenly his mouth is dry, too. “Look,” he says again, and then realizes he probably can’t convince them he’s a time traveler.

So he goes a different route. He’s gotta come up with something plausible, something to convince them not to kill him just long enough for Stephen’s time travel magic/science/whatever to kick back in and whisk him away to safety.

“Your father hired me as your new tutor,” Tony says with as much confidence as he can muster. Loki furrows his eyebrows and looks at Thor, but Thor doesn’t look back. He’s staring at Tony, his face blank.

Slowly, that blankness gives way to a grin.

“A tutor?” Thor says. “For what?”

 _Think fast, Tony_.

“Sex education?” Tony says.

 _Maybe think slower next time_.

Again, Loki looks at Thor, and when he sees that his brother is still smiling, he glances over his shoulder at Tony with a horrible come-hither look.

“So educate us,” he says.

Tony can’t even think of a proper reply. He stands frozen in the doorway, palms sweating and full of indecision. Thor and Loki apparently couldn’t care less whether he joins or just watches; Thor’s hips are moving slowly, and Loki, perched on his lap, moves up and down with the rhythm. Their eyes are on each other, not on Tony.

They’ve forgotten him. Tony closes his eyes and swallows hard, trying to organize his thoughts and simultaneously striving his hardest to ignore the uncomfortable hardness in his pants.

“H-how old are you guys?” he asks, voice strained. There’s a moment’s pause before Thor answers.

“Six hundred and thirty-two.”

Tony is so prepped for a bad answer that he almost doesn’t understand. His eyes pop open and he finds Loki and Thor still totally absorbed in each other.

“Six hundred thirty-two,” says Tony weakly. “Right.”

Now the hardness in his pants is slightly less distressing. A thousand times more confusing, though. He looks at the time-travel device strapped to his wrist, covered in ornate magical symbols. Stephen said he would have roughly an hour in the past to prevent Thor from killing Hela -- but since they overshot it, and that isn’t really a possibility right now…

Tony licks his lips and sees Loki’s eyes on him, pupils blown.

“Okay,” Tony says, rubbing his hands together. “Sex education. Lesson one.”

He loosens his tie and, mindful of the time, rushes to join Thor and Loki in bed. He slides up behind them, one hand pressed against Thor’s bare, almost-hairless chest for balance, the other grabbing Loki by the hip, pulling him closer.

As Tony’s fingers find Thor’s nipple, all he can think is,

_God, I hope Stephen can’t see this._


End file.
